[Lyric] Black Is The Color 1952 (Jean Ritchie)

But black is the color of my true love's hair
His face is something wondrous fair
The prettiest eyes and the neatest hands
I love the ground whereon he stands

I love my love and well he knows
I love the ground whereon he goes
If you on Earth no more I see
I cain't serve you as you have me

Now winter's past and the leaves are green
The time has passed that we have seen
But still I hope the time will come
When you and I will be as one

I go to the Clyde for to mourn, to weep
But satisfied I never can sleep
I'll write to you in a few little lines
I'll suffer death ten thousand times

But black is the color of my true love's hair
His face is somethin' wondrous fair
The prettiest eyes and the neatest hands
I love the ground whereon he stands